


If I were to live my life again, I’d find you sooner.

by ieatgrassalot



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:07:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29364495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ieatgrassalot/pseuds/ieatgrassalot
Summary: Jesse coughs before he speaks, and his voice is strained in his discomfort. “View was so good you wanted a close-up, huh darlin’?” He jokes, the hand not covering his wound rising to cup the man’s face.Hanzo sends a flat look back down at him, but Jesse can see he found some humor in it. It’s the eyes, he thinks, even though that took a while to work out. “Silence. You’re insufferable.”a.k.a. A mission goes wrong and Hanzo reacts stronger than usual. They work through it together.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 8
Kudos: 85





	If I were to live my life again, I’d find you sooner.

He’d been sworn up and down, forwards and backward, that this mission would practically be a vacation. A lovely banquet where he got to dress up and eat fancy food for a couple of hours, and flirt back and forth with his lover through the comms since he’d been stationed on the roof. He had jokes locked and loaded about ‘enjoying the view’ set up in his mind before he even stepped inside the hall, a cheeky little smile on his lips as he prepped to get into position to survey the room properly. 

This ‘vacation’ lasted about twenty minutes. Jesse isn’t sure what put a target on his back this time, or more accurately a target on his abdomen, but the shot rang out accompanied by the familiar sting of a bullet ripping through his skin, and needless to say, all hell broke loose. 

Normally, this would fill him with the kind of adrenaline a teenager gets when they know they’re doing something wrong - he knows this for a fact and has even gotten complimented on his lack of fear when danger drops like an atom bomb into a sea of people that he can't tell the good from bad in. He kind of hates it, personally, and there’s been a few times he’s gotten worried he’s a psychopath, but he always thinks that maybe worrying about it makes it impossible to be one.

Right now, he doesn’t get that rush. Getting shot never stops being just as shocking as the first time, and he doubles over as he sucks in a sharp hiss of a breath, which gets quickly pushed back out through his teeth as the ringing in his ears gets complimented by the screaming and running arching through the room and out the door.

This reminds him again that he’s just a guy to the rest of the people there, save for his fellow agents, and no sooner than the first shot there’s a second, the glint of an arrowhead flashing in the light of the chandeliers he’d noticed coming in, and he can feel a smile flash across his face as he crumples to the floor, unlike the graceful line of the arrow doing the same. Of course, Hanzo would spot him. No doubt he’ll get scolded for this by the very same man, in that way he does where the fondness seeps through and there’s a smile in his eyes despite the worry on his face, and Jesse will say something snarky back, even as blood pools beneath him on the floor. Waxing poetic about his husband even as he bleeds, he thinks, makes him even more of a fool than when he let his guard down as the toe of his boot entered the banquet hall.

God, he loves that man. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it.

Jesse can tell through the pain and the rigorous anatomy lessons drilled into his head that he wasn’t shot anywhere particularly dangerous - he won’t be leaking stomach acid to the rest of his organs or anything, this is just meat. Still hurts like a bitch, though, and the silly grin on his face thinking about his lover fades to a grimace as he puts his hand over the wound. Putting pressure is always his least favorite part of keeping himself from dying, but he does it, staring up at those same stupid, gaudy chandeliers as they dance in his vision like the patrons of the night. The ones currently screaming and running as his fellow agents jump into action, and his smile comes back when a certain familiar silhouette joins the view of the chandeliers, beautifully singular instead of multiplying like the lights. It lands above him as quiet as death, casting a shadow and saving Jesse from some of his headaches, and his smile grows when he squints up and sees him clearly.

Jesse coughs before he speaks, and his voice is strained in his discomfort. “View was so good you wanted a close-up, huh darlin’?” He jokes, the hand not covering his wound rising to cup the man’s face.

Hanzo sends a flat look back down at him, but Jesse can see he found some humor in it. It’s the eyes, he thinks, even though that took a while to work out. “Silence. You’re insufferable.”

“Aw, sweetheart, y’know that don't work on me.” He replies, sucking in a breath and wincing when Hanzo replaces Jesse’s hand with his own, applying more - a.k.a., the appropriate amount - of pressure over the bullet entry wound. 

Hanzo chuckles softly under his breath as he fishes for medical supplies in his little packs, and Jesse finds himself grateful for them once more that Hanzo conveniently has whatever they need at a moment's notice. Jesse will never forget the day they ended up being stuck at a location an extra night as were out of foodstuffs, and Hanzo pulled granola bars out of them like some kind of boy scout. He will also never forget the death-glare Hanzo sent him that clearly translated that if Jesse were ever to utter a word to anyone about it he would personally castrate Jesse with whatever sharp object he could find at their location. Needless to say, his mouth has been sealed up tight with what he thinks is a golden nugget of information ever since, and he thinks that’s one of the first secrets he’s ever found out about his husband. He smiles again looking up at him and lets his thumb draw an idle circle on his cheek.

Hanzo smiles down at him this time, pulling out a small health-pack. “You smile like a lovesick fool, even now.” He says fondly, applying it to Jesse's person.

The rush of comfort and the feeling of his wound patching itself up is always sudden and odd, but his smile remains and grows as the pain recedes. “O’ course I am, gettin’ patched up by such a handsome man.” He replied with a small choked off laugh of his own, wincing since the pain hasn’t fully receded. “Have we met before? Think I’d remember a face like yours.” He teases.

Hanzo sits him up and rolls his eyes, taking the hand caressing his face off of his cheek and bringing it around his shoulders. “Can you stand?” He asks. Jesse nods, and Hanzo starts pushing them off the floor and gaining his footing. “And yes, I believe we have. Though you’re entirely forgettable.”

Jesse gasps, half from pain and half with the intention of being dramatic as he puts a hand to his chest. “You wound me, sweetness! This is worse than the bullet wound.”

“Good,” Hanzo replies, getting an arm wrapped around Jesse's waist to haul him up to stand, “Maybe that will teach you not to flirt while you’re bleeding out, yes?”  
Jesse sucks his teeth, getting his feet underneath him. “You’re no fun.” He replies, all in good fun.

Hanzo scoffs as he starts to evacuate them from the hall, exiting through a back door. The conversation falls flat from there, both agents focusing on their escape rather than their playful banter, Jesse eventually healing enough from the health pack that he can split from Hanzo and round back into the hall to make sure any and all assailants in the hall have been neutralized. Unfortunately, this means parting from his lover again, and Jesse pulls him in for a kiss and whispers ‘I love you’ with all the tender care he can muster, to which Hanzo responds with ‘And you’. The rest of the mission is simple - Talon activity in any of the attackers they picked out from the crowd being non-existent is always good - and cleaning up and clearing out provides no issue. It’s cut and dry as can be on paper, and the agents look forward to an easy review.

-

Jesse knew that Hanzo would drag him to the medbay to make sure the bullet wound had healed properly, making sure they got the okay from Angela before he can even think about relaxing, and he always lets him. That was another knot in their partnership that they had to work out. Jesses ‘If I feel fine, I’m fine’ policy going directly against all of Hanzo’s worry and care that he had carefully placed onto him; causing an argument, a lot of tears, and finally, an agreement that Jesse would make sure that he’s actually fine whenever he got hurt and subsequently healed. Hanzo’s participation in the process wasn’t necessary but almost always guaranteed, unless the archer was away or injured worse, which was rare.

The aftermath of an injury among them varied, depending on the severity and who got hurt, and tonight was no different. Though Hanzo shows his relief with a strange intensity this time as he pulls his lover into a kiss, his hands fisted in the front of Jesse’s suit jacket. Now, this wouldn’t be surprising if he had gotten hurt worse, but this kind of reassurance demanded from his lover for a gunshot wound he would’ve been fine from even if they didn’t have a health pack is new. And just a touch unsettling, Jesse admits to himself, even as he kisses Hanzo back with a gentle hand cupped around the back of his neck, forcing his lover to slow down.

He pulls back once Hanzo’s hands loosen on his jacket, his eyebrows knitted with worry. “Now sweetheart, you know I ain’t got no problem with you needin’ some assurance, but this..” He trails off, and Hanzo stares up at him, his eyes desperate as they flick over his face before his gaze falls and he lets his hands fall from Jesse's chest.

“I apologize.” He replies, simple and short and very, very worrying.

Jesse's hands fly up to his husband's face, cradling it and dipping his head to fish for Hanzo’s gaze. “No, no- don’t apologize, Hanzo.” He amends, pressing their foreheads together. “Like I said, I really ain’t got no problem with it… I encourage it, really, but you seem- I don’t know, just- frantic.” Jesse traces a circle into Hanzo’s cheek again, and his husband’s eyes flick up again to meet his. It’s a timid look that Jesse rarely sees - his husband is usually a pillar of pure confidence - and it makes him want to coo at him. “I just wanna make sure everything’s okay. Y’know, other than the obvious stuff.”

Hanzo sighs, letting his gaze fall back to the floor before his eyes close completely. Jesse catches his lover's throat bob in a swallow out of the edge of his eye. “It never gets easier,” Hanzo replies softly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seeing you get hurt under my protection, it… I always try to keep watchful, so when I fail and it results in your being injured..” He sighs, his crossed arms turning into a self-hug. “It will always frighten me like it did the first time.”

Jesse moves his hands from Hanzo’s face to rub up and down his biceps, coaxing his arms to go lax again. “Okay, sugar… I know that, though. You’ve told me that one.” He says softly, watching as Hanzo’s arms unfurl down to his sides again. “There’s somethin’ else, yeah?”

There’s a beat of silence before Hanzo nods, and Jesse looks at him with a soft smile as he waits. His husband's eyes peek open again, and Jesse tilts his head, expectant. “It’s… you always do this playful banter when you’re hurt and it- it frightens me.” He admits, to which Jesse's heart sinks into the soles of his fancy dress shoes.

“Oh, sweetheart…” He started, before Hanzo barrels through.

“It is as if you are expecting to die, and you want your last impression to be good. As if you do not expect me to remember you fondly if you were to pass away unless you tell me jokes beforehand.” He continues, taking Jesse's hands gently into his own. “The wound was not serious this time, and I know that there was no chance you’d pass on, but it could have been. It’s the idea that you’d do the same even if you were truly going to die.” 

Jesse feels guilty. He never figured that Jesse's banter bothered the archer, much less caused him this deep of grief, and he feels like a fool - a bad partner - that he’d failed to notice it before. His voice comes out soft, his tone fragile. “Oh… I’m sorry. I can quit doin’ that if you’d prefer.” He replies, squeezing Hanzo’s hands. His husband adamantly shakes his head.

“No, your banter at the moment always calms me. It lets me know that I haven’t lost you yet.” Hanzo replies, his eyes searching Jesse’s desperately as if he has the answer.

Jesse’s brow furrows low in confusion, his eyes flicking to the side before landing back on his partner, apprehensive. “Okay, well… I ain’t quite sure how to help you, darlin’. Gettin’ mixed signals a little bit…” He replies with a humorless chuckle and a smile. “Is there anything that’ll make this easier on you? ‘Cause, we’ve done this same kinda routine before, but you seem extra bothered this time 'round.”

Hanzo pauses again, his desperate eyes falling to the floor, to which Jesse puts his hands on his husband's cheeks, waiting for him to be ready to continue. His lover's hands find Jesse's wrists and he turns his head into the palm still made of flesh, pressing a soft kiss there with a small sigh. The action is familiar and wholly comforting, and Jesse traces a thumb on his cheek, an odd conversation through touch - asking if Hanzo is still in there, still willing to continue, and getting answered with a soft affirmation that yes, he’s still there and that he only needs a moment. A moment Jesse will give him until the end of his days if the need should ever come to pass.

After the silence and a few more seconds of that quiet conversation, Hanzo replies. “It’s the suit,” He finally answers, “it reminds me too closely of our wedding day. I was worried beyond measure that it would end up like our mission did today.” Hanzo explains, and Jesse remembers his husband opening up to him the night before that day of just that. The small chance that even their personal lives and the sanctity of their union would be interrupted with violence, to which Jesse assured it would not happen with saccharin words and soft touches meant to soothe. It had worked then - a temporary balm to an issue that Jesse had not foreseen would linger that rears its head now.

“I suppose,” Hanzo continues, distracting Jesse from his thoughts, “it is picking at old fears that I thought I’d laid to rest. It has unsettled me.”

Jesse sighs softly, not out of exasperation, and he nods, pulling Hanzo up to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Okay.” He replies, his thumbs drawing another circle before his hands drag and trace across his husband's collarbones and out to his shoulders. “Okay, I get you. Let’s get out of our mission clothes before we keep goin’, okay? Get comfy before we dive any deeper.” He replies, to which Hanzo nods tiredly and steps away, unfastening his kyudo-gi while Jesse starts to remove the suit jacket that this stemmed from. Jesse tosses it into the trash instead of into their laundry hamper, officially retiring the disguise. His wedding suit, of course, remains safely in his closet. 

The silence grows more comfortable, only interrupted by the soft shifting of cloth over skin, and the domesticity of the situation calms both their hearts, and Hanzo personally is again surprised by his husbands' emotional intelligence. He’d learned early on that conversations like these required breaks for the archer, the first of their conversations having ended in a frustrated parting that left the archer frazzled and avoidant until they were forced to address it again, Jesse acting with much more patience than he had the first time. Even now the cowboy can forget himself in his desperation to get to the root of his lovers' internal struggles, but it never lasts long, and Hanzo has been grateful for his self-awareness ever since.

They’re snuggled up to each other in their most comfortable sleeping clothes before one of them speaks again, face-to-face where they lie.

“I love you,” Hanzo whispers, his hand on Jesse's face, “dearly. I believe that is all that has troubled me so deeply, in truth. Other circumstances simply enhanced the feeling.” 

Jesse nods, mirroring Hanzo from earlier in pressing a kiss to his palm. “I’m retirin’ the suit either way. No more fancy-dress missions, yeah? For either of us.” He whispers back, slinging an arm over Hanzo’s waist. His husband nods, his eyes slipping shut sleepily. “And I love you too, doll. To the moon and back.”

Hanzo sends him a sweet smile in return. “Umarekawattara, anata o motto hayaku mitsukeru darō.” He whispers back, and it makes Jesse smile.

They fall asleep like that, turned to each other, and cradled in soft words, utterly in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Hanzo's last line translates to the title of the work :) If I made a mistake in translating, please let me know in the comments! Speaking of, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
